Intermezzo
by Nanashi Barton
Summary: ONESHOT Ginny Weasley's thoughts on one cold, snowy winter's day. On what? A very nice, cold, icy, potentially flying projectile. To be launched on whom? One very blonde Slytherin.


Intermezzo

Oh my God, he's going to kill me.

I just know it.

It was snowing outside, and I honestly could not resist going out, even though I had a pile of transfiguration homework to do along with a 5 foot essay for potions. Whatever-it's not like all-nighters are THAT hard to pull...

Who am I kidding? I know I'm going to regret going outside, but it's the first snowfall of the season and it's just so beautiful, pure, and untouched.

So much like what I once was, but can never be now.

I don't think I've ever really felt clean after that whole fiasco with Tom.

Stupid Tom, manipulative Tom...et cetera. I don't feel like going through my list of insults.

Although I must say...he was handsome, very much like the blonde ten feet in front of me.

Bad Ginny! Get that thought out of your head!

I wrapped my scarf around my neck tighter. I was actually very fond of this scarf. Hermione gave it to me last Christmas, knowing that I needed a new scarf but didn't have the money to get one. She must have seen me looking at this one in the window as we were walking down Diagon Alley. It's a red plaid scarf with yellow, white, and black lines running through it-a very colorful plaid, but obviously mostly red. I love it. I can't thank her more for it.

That, and it's cashmere, so it's extremely warm.

I smiled and snuggled into the scarf. It really is an awesome scarf.

Great. I'm obsessing over my scarf again. You know, I'm going to start scaring people. Actually, I'm pretty sure I already am scaring people. I'm getting some weird looks from the other students skating on the now frozen lake. I mean, even I would think I looked weird. It isn't every day that you see a girl with bright red hair wearing a second hand coat snuggling in a red plaid scarf with a giant starting-to-melt snowball in her gloved hands while looking evilly at her next victim.

Well...potential next victim. I haven't decided if I wanted to die yet.

I'm pretty sure that if I threw this, the blonde (aka Mr. Draco whatever his middle name is Malfoy) would whip out his wand and avada kedavra me. Either that, or report me to Snape, who I KNOW will take great perverse pleasure in giving me a year of detention along with a ten foot essay on why pummeling his favorite student is bad.

So, either real actual six-feet-under death or proverbial social life death.

Either way, I'm going to die if I throw this white, powdery future flying projectile at Malfoy's head.

Then again, every has to die sometime...might as well go all out and have fun, right?

Right, Ginevra, getting killed by a death eater-to-be is a great way to die while having fun.

But I really want to see his face when this now-melting snowball hits him unsuspectingly.

Ew. It's wet. And cold. I need to make a new one. A soggy bit of ice isn't going to hurt anyone.

Not that I want to hurt him, of course. Merlin knows what the girls would do without their Slytherin sex god.

Umm...did I just think that? Of course not. I meant...erm...I meant...

Oh bloody hell, sod it all. He IS handsome. I mean, who could not like his looks? Blonde hair, grey eyes, tall, muscular...okay, Ginny. Back on track. He's the enemy, remember?

Right. So back to this whole "do I want to die today" decision.

Hmmmm...yes...to throw a snowball or to not throw a snowball at the Amazing Bouncing Ferret...that is the question...

Oh yes, by the way, I would like to note that I am in no way, shape, or form attracted to Draco Malfoy. Again, I am in no way, shape, or form attracted to Draco Malfoy.

Now, since that's been said, let us commence the debate.

Oh wait. I have to finish my previous train of thought first.

So why exactly am I in no way, shape, or form attracted to Draco Malfoy? First of all, he's a git. Second of all, he's a git. Third of all, his father nearly killed me. Fourth of all, his family hates my family. Fifth of all, I really don't want to change him. I mean, sure, a lot of girls at Hogwarts would love to change him. I mean, here's a guy who's so bloody morose, mean, and evil and practically begging to be changed by some "special person." Ha. As if anyone could change that monster. Then again, I suppose every girl has her wild fantasies. Malfoy's the perfect specimen, really. I'm sure some girl wants to be his special someone and bring him into the light.

Bah, humbug.

That's just stupid.

Okay, so anyway, about that snowball...

Sod it. I'm doing it. I'm going to die eventually anyway, either by his wand, Voldemort, Snape's unending homework, or naturally.

I bent down and began to form a snowball. It started out pretty small at first, but it got bigger after a while. I smirked. This is sooo worth it.

Taking a few steps forward so as to be closer to the target, I took careful aim. I only had one chance at this. It's not every day that you see Malfoy staring pensively out at the quidditch field.

I pitched the flying ball of snow into the air. Everything suddenly seemed to slow down in a very Matrix-style way. Hermione invited me over to her house over the summer and we watched the Matrix. Needless to say, the snowball slowly going through midair and hitting Malfoy squarely in the back of the head was very Matrix-style-ish.

-ish. Now there's a good ending to everything. Like that one time I was trying to keep track of a game of Gobstones between Harry and Ron. The finally score was recorded as the following: Harry: 260, Ron: 265-ish.

Yes, -ish is a very good ending indeed. There's no actual commitment with that word.

So...anyway...back to my impending doom...

Houston, we have success. Flying white projectile A has made contact with planet Malfoy.

Oh Merlin, his face!

It contorted for a moment, as if he were trying to comprehend exactly what hit him. He whirled around angrily, only to find me smirking.

Only to find me smirking.

HOLY SHITTAKE MUSHROOMS! RUN, GINEVRA, RUN YOU STUPID GIRL!

I took off like the wind in the opposite direction.

I'm gonna die...I'm so gonna die...

God, if you're out there, I'm really sorry for everything, like pranking Fred and George with their own prank material, setting Ron and Hermione up, lying to my mom, playing hookie from class, thinking Draco Malfoy was hot...

What! Where did that come from!

Oh well. So much for a confession.

Oof.

Oww...I think he caught me.

I mean, a clear indicator would be the fact that my face is in the snow and there's a heavy lump of something...or rather, someone...on my back. That, and I distinctly felt his arm close around my waist and shove me into the snow. I started laughing.

"Get off me, you great lump of lard!" I attempted to scream in between my uncontrollable laugh, only to have snow jammed in my mouth.

Here it comes. The wand and then the avada kedavra. Goodbye, sweet life. Till my next reincarnation...Merlin, this is hilarious! I just can't seem to stop laughing. His face when he turned around to look at me!

I didn't stop laughing until I felt something extraordinarily cold hit my spine.

Ack!

COLD!

Lovely. Really really lovely. NOT! THAT BLOODY FERRET IS SHOVING SNOW DOWN MY BACK!

He's so gonna get it.

I try to struggle to get up and turn around so that I can actually hit him. Somehow or another, I'm still laughing my arse off.

Ugh. No such luck. He's got me pinned, that pillock!

I am really cold now. He's rubbing snow into my hair.

Brain freeze...in the literal sense.

"Merlin, that's bloody cold! Enough!"

He let up after a while and got up. Thank goodness. I thought my back was going to break. Whoever said Malfoy was a lightweight was obviously wrong.

It suddenly struck me.

I was alive.

I checked my pulse. All the while, I could feel Malfoy's gaze on me. He's probably questioning my sanity.

AHA! There it is! It's going bump...bump...bump...

I'M ALIVE! BY SOME SMALL MIRACLE, I'M ALIVE!

And then I had a second epiphany.

Did I, Ginevra Anne Weasley, just lose a friendly snowball fight to the big, bad Draco whatever-his-middle-name-is Malfoy?

THE WORLD'S COMING TO AN END!

He held out his hand to help me up. Hmm...how gentlemanly. Ten galleons say that he's just gonna push me down again.

I looked at the hand warily.

"Look, Weasel, I'm not going to stand here all day."

"I'm not a weasel!"

He smirked. Merlin, I hate that smirk!

"Sure look like one."

Grrrrr! How dare he! Enraged, I shot up and pelted him with yet another snowball.

And thus began the first ever Malfoy-Weasley snowball war.


End file.
